r girl living could have carried the frolic
through." Then he spoke seriously, "But I will make her smart for it when
the queen leaves Haddon."

"Sir George, if you will allow me to suggest what I feel on the subject, I
would say that you have no reason whatever for desiring to make Dorothy
smart. She may have deeper designs than we can see."

"What designs do you suppose she can have? Tell me, Malcolm," asked Sir
George.

I remained silent for a moment, hardly knowing how to express my thought.
"Certainly she could not have appeared to a better advantage than in her
tavern maid's costume," I said.

"That is true," answered Sir George. "Though she is my own daughter, I
must admit that I have never seen any woman so beautiful as she." The old
gentleman laughed softly for a moment and said: "But wasn't it brazen?
Wasn't it shameless? I have always given the girl credit for modesty,
but--damme, damme--"

"Her beauty in the tavern maid's costume fired Leicester's heart as
nothing else could have done," I said. "He stood by my side, and was in
raptures over her charms."

Sir George mused a moment and said something about the "Leicester
possibility," which I knew to be an impossibility, and before I left him
he had determined to allow the matter to drop for the present. "I am
making a damned pretty mess of the whole affair, I fear, Malcolm," he
said.

"You don't seem to be clearing it up, Sir George," I responded.

After talking over some arrangements for the queen's entertainment, I said
good night, and left my cousin brooding over as complicated a problem as
man ever tried to solve.

The next morning I told Dorothy how her father felt with respect to the
"Leicester possibility." She laughed and said:--

"I will encourage father in that matter, and," with a saucy twinkle in her
eye, "incidentally I will not discourage my proud lord of Leicester. I
will make the most of the situation, fear not, Malcolm."

"I do not fear," said I, emphatically.

There it was: the full-blown spirit of conquest, strong even in a
love-full heart. God breathed into Adam the breath of life; but into Eve
he breathed the love of conquest, and it has been growing stronger in the
hearts of her daughters with each recurring generation.

"How about John?" I asked.

"Oh, John?" she answered, throwing her head contemplatively to one side.
"He is amply able to protect his own interests. I could not be really
untrue to him if I wished to be